


Some Things Are Really Best Left Unspoken

by neapeaikea



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Cheating, Future Fic, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:57:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neapeaikea/pseuds/neapeaikea
Summary: Kevin meets Joaquin six years later, and a whole host of confusing emotions bubble up again. The fact that he's engaged doesn't stop him from seeing Joaquin again and again.





	Some Things Are Really Best Left Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Random first Riverdale fic ftw! I wrote this because I needed closure for these two, and that means they have a lot of confusing conversations in here, 'cos that's how I roll. Set six years(-ish) after S1 with Kevin in college. I am not that well-versed in the Archie 'verse and could for the life of me not find Kevin's dad's name, so I went with Melvin in honour of Chris Meloni, who played Keller on Oz. That's how my logic works. Title is a line from Billy Bragg's "Sexuality" and is followed by 'but I prefer it all to be out in the open', which is kinda Kevin's approach in this. 
> 
> For those worried about the tags, Kevin does not cheat on Joaquin. 
> 
> A more self-indulgent and self-centred A/N concerning yours truly can be find below the fic. 
> 
> Feedback is lovingly drooled on!

  
  


When Kevin’s car breaks down, it does so about two blocks from where Kevin knows there’s an auto shop, though he’s never frequented the place. He’s taken this particular route to college for the last couple of weeks and he’s noticed the yellow sign, just like he’s noticed the coffee place that spells coffee with a ‘K’ and the restaurant with the confusing faded pictures of galloping horses in the windows. 

It’s probably just the oil again, but that ‘again’ is the bane of his existence. Kevin knows his way around cars, hard not to with his dad, but he’s tried everything he can think of and the oil still mysteriously disappears somewhere without Kevin finding a hole in the canister, oil elsewhere in the engine or tracks on the road. He’s known for a while that if it happens again, he’ll have to take it to a mechanic, but being a college student, he tries to keep expenses at a minimum. Except for clothes and nightclubs, but that’s a different story.

He manages to park the car somewhat near the curb, and definitely out of the way of traffic, which pleases him infinitely in a ‘small victories’-kind of way. He locks the car and takes a deep breath to center himself before trudging back towards the auto shop, hoping they’ll have an opening that day, if not right away.

The place isn’t as rundown as Kevin would’ve thought, flashy steel shelves full of equipment that’s neatly organized and a surprisingly clean floor with only a pickup truck and a motorcycle currently in the shop. There’s an office to the side that opens to the street, Kevin can see some yellow chairs and desks, but since the office is empty and the workshop area opens onto the street too, he simply strolls in towards where there are clanging noises and the tinny sound of a radio coming.

“Hello?” Kevin calls out. 

“Just a second!” is the quick response, coming from behind the pickup and there’s one last metallic clank before a man emerges from near the right back wheel.

Kevin blinks a few times, feeling as if the world just became a merry-go-round. He’s suddenly nauseous, but as the man blinks back at him, hand paused on its way to a greeting, Kevin is becoming terribly certain that he knows the man in front of him.

“Joaquin?” Kevin croaks out, hesitation and confusion coloring his voice.

“Kevin? Keller?” Joaquin looks even more incredulous than Kevin feels. “Are you… What?”

“Fuck. Joaquin.” Kevin can’t help saying his name again. When they were together he loved saying his name. He loved calling him his boyfriend, his sweetheart, anything that was a vocalized reference to his first love would have him smiling and feeling bashful. For months it was wonderful, and then there were months of hurt and heartache, and the wariness around new people remained for years. 

Joaquin looks older, his face has a harder edge to it, the lines more defined. There’s a scar above one of his eyebrows. His hair is still long enough to reach his shoulders, he’s still wearing a t-shirt that’s a little too tight and he has a ridiculous necklace with some animal’s fang dangling from the chain. Even with six years gone by, Kevin would’ve always recognized him. He wonders if Joaquin has no trouble recognizing him, or if Kevin’s appearance has changed dramatically. Probably not, the only difference is that he doesn’t style his hair quite as religiously. 

As Kevin’s been staring, Joaquin has walked closer and before Kevin is ready, Joaquin is within touching distance. He’s looking at Kevin like he’s actually happy to see him, like he’s not being torn apart by memories of deceit and heartbreak.

“Damn, Preppy, it’s good to see you.”

Kevin lets out a surprised laugh at the old nickname. 

Joaquin joins in with a quiet laugh, “No, look at you. Still with the knitted sweaters… I like it.”

“You still let you hair grow long.” Kevin says.

“It’s usually longer.” Joaquin says, not being discreet about taking all of Kevin in, though his eyes don’t stay away from Kevin’s face for long. “How’d you find me?”

“I, uh, didn’t.” Kevin says, reality sliding back in. This isn’t some heartfelt reunion, this isn’t him finding true love with the first boy who rimmed him. At Joaquin’s confused look, Kevin hooks a thumb over his shoulder, “My car. The oil, there’s something wrong with it.”

“Now, even I know that you know more about cars than that idiotic explanation reveals.” Joaquin smiles.

One of the few interests they had shared during their relationship was an appreciation of classic cars and Kevin had been happy to impress Joaquin with all the greasemonkey knowledge that was hidden beneath his preppy sweaters. Other shared interests had included Jason Statham-movies, getting naked, and the thrill of keeping their relationship secret from Kevin’s dad. 

Kevin takes a closer look at Joaquin’s face, at the scar that looks relatively new, his nose that’s just one tiny bit too large to grant him classically beautiful status. Kevin never cared about that, he thought Joaquin was flawlessly handsome. The wave of nausea that’s giving way to butterflies in his stomach tells him he still doesn’t care, still finds Joaquin’s appearance charming. 

“Kev?” Joaquin asks hesitantly.

Kevin reaches out and pulls Joaquin closer by his t-shirt. Joaquin is clearly surprised, but his hands find purchase on Kevin’s sides, and he meets Kevin’s mouth readily, kissing him like it’s all he’s wanted for years. Kevin kisses him hard, like he did when they said goodbye, when Joaquin walked onto a bus that took him anywhere but Riverdale. Joaquin answers like he did then, with soft lips that give way to Kevin’s demand, following along but not taking more than is given. Kevin’s the one that pulls away for a breath before diving back in, this time sliding his tongue along Joaquin’s lips. 

A groan rips from one of them, and then hands are everywhere, Joaquin squeezing at Kevin’s hips before travelling up to paw at his shoulders. Kevin keeps licking and kissing at Joaquin’s lips, but is faintly aware of his hands groping Joaquin’s ass, before tangling with his hair. 

The kiss grows hungrier, more passionate. Kevin shouldn’t be gagging for it, but he is. He wants to feel Joaquin against him again, wants to know what his body looks like now, if there are any other new scars for him to wonder and worry about. Joaquin does that thing where he bites down on Kevin’s lower lip, taking more control of the kiss. They’ve ended up pressed against the pickup, and Kevin has no problem relaxing against it and letting Joaquin lean heavily into him. Joaquin’s tongue licks where he’d bitten on Kevin’s lip and then it’s inside Kevin’s mouth, sliding hotly against Kevin’s own tongue. 

Kevin’s hands tighten on Joaquin’s ass, sliding down inside the pockets of his jeans and grabbing it. Joaquin lets out a throaty moan, so it must feel good to him too. Joaquin spreads his legs a little, so he can get leverage to press up against Kevin’s dick, because yep, that’s where they’re going with this. 

“Fuck, Joaquin…” Kevin breathes out as Joaquin finally relinquishes his mouth in favor of sucking on Kevin’s neck.

“Yeah, come on.” Joaquin takes Kevin’s hand and pulls him further inside, hiding them behind the pickup rather than giving passersby a free show.

Kevin has a moment to think that he should stop this, that there is so much he should tell Joaquin, stuff from back then and stuff from the very present, but he doesn’t. In fact he does the opposite, taking advantage of the bed of the pickup being open and hopping up to sit on the edge of it. When Joaquin comes to stand between his legs, Kevin smiles and puts his arms around Joaquin’s neck. He’s higher up now than when they were standing next to each other, but Joaquin doesn’t seem to mind, he just tilts his head and starts kissing Kevin again, filthy and full of promise. 

Kevin takes advantage of their positioning and strokes his hands across Joaquin’s broad shoulders, the man having filled out with a muscle or two since they last did this. Kevin wants to see, and pulls at Joaquin’s t-shirt. The other man gets the hint and helps out. There’s a cross tattooed over Joaquin’s right pec, and what’s supposed to look like the marks from animal claws further down his stomach. Kevin pulls Joaquin closer, his chest heaving at the heat pressed against him. Joaquin doesn’t try to take Kevin’s sweater off, instead he goes straight for the belt, unbuckling it and groping inside to find Kevin’s hardening cock. When he pulls it out, he throws a smirk up at Kevin and it’s almost his undoing. How Joaquin could ever pull off that pleased and horny look, Kevin will never know.

It’s so wrong, and the most unexpected thing to ever happen to Kevin, but when Joaquin bends his head down to take Kevin into his mouth, he knows that this couldn’t have gone any other way. They were always great at sex, and sexual tension. Half of their dates was Joaquin sliding his hand up and down Kevin’s thigh until Kevin couldn’t take it anymore. It was talking, and honesty, that was their sore spot, but Kevin is decidedly not thinking of that, not when he has his hands buried in Joaquin’s soft hair and the other man sucks him halfway down.

“Oh God, yeah.” Kevin mutters breathlessly.

Joaquin’s mouth tightens around him, sliding just a bit further down before he has to pull off for some air.

“You’re amazing.” Kevin says, pushing him back down.

Joaquin’s fast to open up again, suckling at the head of Kevin’s cock. He’s fully hard now, and he imagines fucking Joaquin’s mouth, just taking what he wants, but he doesn’t. Joaquin’s doing a good enough job of it on his own, abandoning the finer points of his blowjob skills to bob his head up and down as he licks and sucks. It’s more than enough for Kevin who can feel his balls tightening up. 

“Come on, let me.” Kevin tries to push at Joaquin’s shoulders to reciprocate in some way, but Joaquin just gets down on his knees on the concrete floor. He smirks up at Kevin, face flushed and lips red from abuse. He pulls at Kevin’s pants, getting them down far enough that he can lick at Kevin’s balls. 

“Oh God, oh God.” Kevin chants, trying not to come in five minutes flat like a teenager. He’d like to prove to Joaquin that he has matured in at least one way, but then Joaquin ruins it by looking up at him through his eyelashes as he moves to take Kevin’s dick again.

Kevin gets a hand on Joaquin’s cheek and feels the skin stretching as Joaquin sucks him off in earnest. He can’t keep his eyes open for long, but he does see one of Joaquin’s hands disappearing down, and hears a button-fly being opened. Joaquin is getting off on giving Kevin head in an open shop that anyone could walk into, and it’s by far the dirtiest, sexiest thing that has ever happened to Kevin. 

Joaquin pulls off and tilts his head. “Come on, Preppy.”

The nickname has Kevin vibrating in his seat, and he puts his hand on his dick, quick strokes to finish himself off while Joaquin kneels in front of him, jerking his own dick. It’s so fantastically wrong and debauched, and Joaquin hardly flinches when Kevin’s cum lands on his cheek. 

“Oh, oh fuck. Yeah. Fuck. You… yeah.” Kevin isn’t at his most coherent when he’s just shot his brains out, and his jizz stains the face of one of the hottest people he’s ever seen. It’s not helping either that Joaquin’s standing up, jeans falling down his legs so that Kevin can see the firm grip he has on his dick, and how red and flushed it is. “I could, come on.”

Joaquin steps closer, but it’s only to kiss Kevin sloppily, not to demand he help with his erection. Kevin runs his hands across Joaquin’s shoulders and arms, huffing little moans into the other man’s ears, tiny little encouragements. Joaquin comes with a stuttered breath and freezes for a second, stills with his head resting on Kevin’s stomach.

They stay like that for a minute, then Joaquin is the one to pull back. “I’ve got a rag here somewhere, hang on.”

Kevin surreptitiously watches as Joaquin turns and bends over to reach a cloth at a low shelf, his ass on display. He does nothing to hide where he’s been looking when Joaquin turns back, but Joaquin just laughs and cleans himself off before pulling his pants back up. Kevin wipes himself off with the towel Joaquin offers, then jumps down from the truck. A car horn blares from outside and he suddenly remembers where they are. The sounds from outside are suddenly that much louder, and the radio playing somewhere is airing ads with far too excited voices. 

“Fuck, you think someone saw us?” Kevin asks.

“Nah, my boss isn’t in ‘til eleven and it’s usually pretty dead on Tuesdays.” Joaquin answers. “You want a drink?”

“Yes. Please.” Kevin follows Joaquin when he motions him to, ending up in what has to be the break room, with a round table and four chairs, a sink and a fridge in the corner. 

Joaquin offers Kevin a Mountain Dew, “It’s all we’ve got.”

“It’s fine.” Kevin promises. 

A quiet moment passes where neither of them seems to know what to say, then Joaquin breaks the silence by asking, “What are you doing here?”

“In this exact shop, or in Berkeley?”

“Both.”

“I’m a journalism major at the university.” Kevin begins.

“Figures.” Joaquin says. 

“As for wandering into your little gin joint out of all the ones in the world,” Kevin says, bitterness finally creeping in as he remembers how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other, and why, “my car broke down. Oil’s been messing with me for months. Finally gave up two blocks from here. I walked here to see if you could do anything about it.”

“I’m sure we can squeeze you in.” Joaquin smiles easily, his eyes happy as they take Kevin in.

Kevin turns his face away, “I should hate you.”

The traffic noise is a lot quieter in here, and the radio doesn’t reach the room. The silence is loud enough.

“But you don’t?” is Joaquin’s hesitant reply.

“You messed me up. I was so in love with you.” Kevin takes a breath, shakes his head. “A first boyfriend is supposed to kiss you at the movies, leave notes in your locker, hold you up the first time you get drunk. He’s supposed to dump you because the SATs are too intense, or he catches you looking at the quarterback.”

When he sneaks a look at Joaquin, the other man has pulled his arms around himself, like he’s holding himself for comfort, and he’s staring at the floor.

“You lied to me. From day fucking one, you lied about why you liked me, why you liked sneaking into my house, and when we broke up it was because you mopped up blood and helped get rid of a dead body.” Kevin’s hard voice surprises even him, he didn’t know he could be this cold. But he’s had shit he’s wanted to say to Joaquin for six years, and therapy can only do so much. When Joaquin doesn’t say anything back, Kevin grits out a frustrated, “Well?”

“It didn’t start like that, and you know that. I told you back then, when we first met I was into being with the goody-two-shoes from the nice part of town, and making him slum it with me. I never lied to you about that. And even later, when FP found out and made me spy on you, use you… I felt like shit because I really did like you, and you treated me like, like…”

“Like what, Joaquin? Like a boyfriend?” Kevin sneers.

“Like I mattered, okay?” Joaquin almost glares at Kevin, taking a few steps closer. “You acted like I mattered for once in my shitty life, and I don’t want to make this into a boo-hoo story but when you’re used to getting treated like something the cat dragged in, it’s fucking amazing when someone looks at you and sees potential, not trouble.”

“Oh, I knew you were trouble alright.” Kevin mutters. 

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Joaquin asks.

“I don’t know!” Kevin waves his hands around, “I don’t know, okay? I just… I want you to know you’re the reason I don’t trust people like I used to. Why I was in therapy for a year. That I came clean to my dad and he was the angriest I’ve ever seen him and he stopped trusting me. Me! Kevin Keller, class president, straight A’s, early acceptance to Berkeley, every other perfect son cliché ever, my dad didn’t trust _me_. That was the worst of it all.”

“I’m sorry.” Joaquin says softly, hands up like a peace offering. “I’m sorry for all that, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? FP had me cornered.”

They had a conversation similar to this one before Joaquin got on that bus, and Joaquin blamed FP back then too. Of course, Kevin wasn’t quite as rational then as he is now, and could barely look past the fact that he’d slept with a guy who was an actual criminal, that he couldn’t keep acting like Joaquin was a gang member through circumstance rather than actions.

“That’s what you said then too.” Kevin points out.

“Because it’s true!”

“No, it wasn’t! Yes, he could blackmail you, and you could’ve ended up in jail too, but you could’ve kept me out of it. You could’ve broken up with me, or told me the truth. But you just let me think everything was fine, that you wanted me as badly as I wanted you, that it was romantic we were sneaking around behind my dad’s back.”

Joaquin takes a drink of his soda. He grinds his teeth like he’s thinking of what to say that won’t make this into a bigger argument. “I guess I was just selfish, then. I just wanted to keep seeing you. I did fucking like you, alright, Preppy? I still like you. God, I’ve thought about you so much.” 

Kevin snorts, “Yet you never fucking called or wrote. And don’t give me that crap about wanting to protect me, this is the 21st century, you could’ve contacted me a thousand ways without anyone knowing.”

“I wanted you to get a chance to forget it all, to get a fresh start. You deserved better than me. And I was fucking scared, alright? The first year I was convinced I was gonna be picked up and tried for conspiracy to murder.”

“You had to have been there for the actual murder.” Kevin corrects, unable to help himself.

“Whatever. I thought I was going inside for a long, long time. Every time I thought about you, I felt sick. I was mad at myself for dragging you into it. You were the only one who had actually cared about me for me, not wanting something from me, and I’d repaid you by throwing it in your face.”

Kevin lets out a breath. It’s weird hearing Joaquin talk about himself like that, talking about _them_ like that. When Kevin’s tried to see it from Joaquin’s side, that’s more or less where he’s ended up too, assuming that Kevin was some kind of positive force in Joaquin’s life that he didn’t want to give up, regretting how things ended up. But he’s also been convinced Joaquin was laughing at him, and enjoyed taking advantage of Kevin’s almost-virgin ass.

The phone bursting to life in Kevin’s pocket makes both of them flinch. Kevin takes it out, and curses.

“Look, can you help with my car or not?”

Joaquin folds his arms again. “I don’t know, can I?”

“What?” Kevin asks, unimpressed. “Either you can or not, and if not, I’ll find another mechanic.”

“Alright, calm down, I’ll take a look.”

When Joaquin turns around to head back outside, Kevin’s eyes land on his shoulders again, and a shiver goes through him as he remembers how he’d been holding on to them a little while earlier, how Joaquin had gone down on his knees and sucked him off like they were picking things up right where they left them. 

As Kevin passes by the pickup he can barely breathe and he trips as he sees the discarded cloths they used to clean up with. Joaquin glances back at him, but says nothing. 

Kevin leads them to his car, and pops open the engine hood. Joaquin takes a look, picking at a few things.

“Sure, I’ll have a go. Think you can drive it to the shop?”

“I can try.” Kevin agrees. “Think you can fix it?”

Joaquin grins smugly, “You know how magic my hands are.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, “So not the time.”

Amazingly, Kevin’s car holds up until just a few feet away from the shop, and together they push it the last bit of the way.

“So, how long do you think?” Kevin asks.

“Maybe an hour, maybe a day.” Joaquin says. “Can I have your number?”

Kevin’s mouth drops open, sure they had a highly dubious sex encounter within the last hour, but with everything that was said afterwards, Kevin never thought Joaquin was hoping for them to meet again.

“So I can call you when the car’s done.” Joaquin adds, looking at Kevin like he’s a little stupid, which he is.

“Right, yeah.” Kevin takes the notebook Joaquin holds out and writes his number down. “You do that. Please.”

Joaquin smiles, and it’s that soft, pleased smile again, like he thinks maybe this will all sort itself out and that Kevin will stay in his life now.

“I have a fiancé.” Kevin blurts out. “Lawrence. We’ve been together nearly two years, and he proposed last month. We won’t get married until we’ve both graduated but we’re already looking at venues. He’s nice, and sweet and smart and hot, and I love him. I love him more than I ever loved you.”

Joaquin’s whole demeanor changes, his body shrinking like he was held up by strings and now someone’s cut them all off. His eyes dim, gaze turning away. 

“I’m glad I got to see you again, Joaquin. I’m glad you’re alive, and it looks like you’re doing well. But we’re never going to happen again.” Kevin is glad to have said it, it feels definitive, like closure.

Joaquin just looks at him for a moment, “I’ll have my boss call you about the car.”

“Thank you.” Kevin nods.

This time, neither of them reaches out for a last kiss, or hesitates for a last farewell. This time, they don’t stop to look back.

**

After a whole week passes without Joaquin being in touch, Kevin relaxes a little. 

True to his word, Joaquin had gotten his boss, Phil, to call Kevin to confirm his car was fixed and ready to be picked up. Phil had also passed on a message that after five o’clock that day, Joaquin would not be at the shop. Kevin hadn’t known whether he was relieved or disappointed at the offered out. Phil had just given him a look when he’d shown up for his car, saying that the Joaquin he knew was a good worker and did his best to stay out of trouble. Kevin had thanked him and driven home wondering what Joaquin had told his boss about him.

Since learning where Joaquin works, Kevin takes a different route to and from campus, putting a safe distance of two whole streets between them. He’s more than a little nervous about running into Joaquin again, and prays for green lights through the whole neighborhood so he doesn’t end up seeing him walking down a street.

Obviously it’s when he relaxes that shit hits the fan. They’ve spent at least a few months in the same town without running into each other, but Kevin is not surprised at all when Joaquin walks into the diner where he and Lawrence are having lunch on a day neither of them have seminars to attend nor work to do. 

“Who’s that?” Lawrence asks.

“Hmm?” Kevin slowly takes his gaze off Joaquin, turning to his fiancé instead. “Sorry, what, babe?”

“Who’s the guy you’re staring at?”

“I’m not staring,” Kevin protests, “And he’s a guy I knew back in Riverdale.”

“Ooh, Riverdale, the mysterious, bleak, dark Riverdale that actually comes across as a lovely cookie-cutter town.” Lawrence says, bringing up a conversation favorite since the first time Kevin brought Lawrence home with him.

Kevin rolls his eyes, “You’ve only seen the surface. If you actually knew the people that live there, you’d know it’s a messed up place.”

“Hey.” Joaquin’s voice suddenly interrupts.

Kevin whips his head around, blinking up at Joaquin. Why would he think it was fine to come over? Why would he pick now for the time to reach out to Kevin? 

“Hello,” Lawrence chirps happily, “I’m Lawrence. Kevin just told me you’re a friend of his from Riverdale, is it really as fucked up as he says, ‘cos when I’ve been there everyone’s been super nice.”

Joaquin pauses for a second, glancing at Kevin before saying, “Uh, I had to leave ‘cos I was involved in a murder, so.”

Kevin nearly spits out his water, and Lawrence just stares at Joaquin. The longhaired man breaks out a silly grin, “Nah, I’m just kidding ya. But it’s not that nice, not when I was there anyway.”

“Holy moly, you had me going there.” Lawrence laughs nervously.

“Yeah, Joaquin, too much.” Kevin says, sweat breaking out over his body from the near admission of the Jason Blossom Clusterfuck. He waves a hand between the other two because the fact that he had sex with Joaquin last week is not going to stop him from following basic social courtesy. “Joaquin, meet my fiancé Lawrence. Lawrence, Joaquin and I knew some of the same people in high school.”

“During high school,” Joaquin cuts in, “I’m a bit older, and I went to Southside High. But anyway, it was nice meeting you, I think that’s my order they called out.”

“Oh, won’t you join us?” Lawrence asks, giving Joaquin that genuine smile that makes most people, including Kevin, do exactly what he wants them to. 

Kevin’s brain has just enough time to kick into full-on panic mode before Joaquin shakes his head.

“Sorry, gotta go. You have a good day, though. It was nice meeting you.” Joaquin nods at Lawrence and half-turns, sending an inscrutable look at Kevin before walking to the counter to get his order.

Lawrence sighs slightly, “That’s too bad, I’d like to get to know some of your Riverdale friends.”

“I wouldn’t call him a friend.” Kevin mumbles, watching as Joaquin leaves the establishment with his to-go bag. Joaquin turns his head just as he pushing open the door, and their eyes meet. He pauses for second, raises an eyebrow, and walks out.

**

Kevin sits in his car for ten minutes, staring at the shop. There’s been no real customers coming or going, but he can tell that two people are in the workshop, and there’s a woman sitting at a computer in the reception area. There are three cars that he can see, one of them is on the car lift that mechanics use, one of the guys is standing under it and doing something with a screwdriver. Kevin’s not close enough to see who the guy is, but he’s pretty sure it’s Joaquin.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, why he’s there. That’s a lie, he does know. Ever since he laid his eyes on Joaquin ten days ago, he can’t stop thinking about him. His assignments and reading has actually taken longer than usual, and that’s startling since Kevin has always been able to ignore anything happening in his life to focus on his studies. Schoolwork has always been an escape, something he can turn to when he doesn’t want to deal with whatever’s going on, and the fact that Joaquin is distracting him to an extent Lawrence never has, is frightening. Kevin doesn’t need this, doesn’t need an old lover showing up, taking valuable time he could spend trying to get an interview with a member of faculty about the new grading guidelines, or thinking of anniversary gifts for Lawrence. 

For years he’s wondered what Joaquin was doing at any given moment, if he was dead, in prison, or even in the country. For Kevin, the idea that Joaquin had been murdered was as realistic as that he’d made it out somehow, that he was living in Florida and getting an actual education. He’s spent so much time worrying, being angry and confused, that he shouldn’t be surprised that he’s caught up in this, having potential answers to his own complex feelings at the tip of his fingers. 

The last week has been full of restless nights and stupid daydreams, his emotions all over the place. Joaquin has his number now, he can use it anytime. But he hasn’t, and it’s yet another conundrum that’s left Kevin feeling so confused he doesn’t know up from down.

Fed up with himself, Kevin gets out of the car, taking care to not slam the door. He locks it, and with a quick look down the street, heads over to Gold’s Auto Shop. The pedantic in him wants to know why it’s called Gold’s since they used a horrible yellow for the sign. He could always ask Phil if Joaquin isn’t there.

Joaquin is there. 

“Hi.” Kevin starts awkwardly, realizing he doesn’t have a game plan.

“Kevin, hi.” Joaquin says, clearly surprised at seeing Kevin. He’s at a workbench, what looks like a carburetor on it. He throws a look at where his co-worker is doing something with the interior of a Toyota. “Didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Kevin asks.

Joaquin’s eyebrows fly up, and his eyes widen. “What?”

“Coming up to us, introducing yourself to Lawrence. What the fuck, are you going to ruin this for me too? Break my heart again?” 

Joaquin’s gaze darts again to his co-worker, “Let’s do this outside.”

“I don’t care where we do this.” Kevin raises his voice. 

Grabbing Kevin’s arm, Joaquin says, “Then come on.” Leading Kevin out on the pavement, he calls out something about taking his break, and then heads to the surprisingly clean alley to the right of the shop.

Kevin pulls his arm back at some point, and has it wrapped against his chest when they finally stop. He refuses to get emotional this time, refuses to back down.

“I don’t want to ruin anything for you, Kev.” Joaquin says, running a hand through his hair. “You’re the one that cheated on him, not me. I had no idea he existed.”

Not at all ready to take responsibility for his actions, Kevin shakes his head, “That’s not even what this is about. Where the hell have you even been the past six years?”

Joaquin looks uncertain, “Uhm, you mean…?”

“I mean, where have you been? I was dealing with the fallout in Riverdale, but do you even know what’s been going on since you left?”

“Some of it, yeah.” Joaquin shifts from foot to foot, “I’ve been keeping an eye on news from Riverdale, got a Google alert on it and an online subscription to the Register.” He smiles faintly, “Saw your name in the bylines a few times. That picture of you near graduation.”

“So you do know about the internet.” 

Joaquin smiles for the briefest of moments, “I do, and I looked you up, God, so many times. Thought about creating accounts just to talk to you. But I’d see you smiling in some photo, or posing with your friends, and I just felt… like I had to let you have that. I didn’t want to drag you back into my shit. I didn’t know if you hated me, if you’d forgotten about me or whatever.”

“Yeah, ‘cos your boyfriend being involved in a fucking murder is something you forget.” Kevin says, eyes burning a hole in the ground.

Sighing, Joaquin reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, a lighter crammed into it. He silently offers one to Kevin but when he shakes his head, Joaquin lights it and puts it to his own lips. After a long drag, he speaks again, “The first year was pretty much panic mode. Got as far away as I could, kept my head way fucking down. Got rid of anything that could trace me back to Riverdale and the Serpents. Went by Juan for a while. After the trial was over back in Riverdale, I guess I breathed again for the first time since I left. Got a pretty good job as a cleaner in Boston. I’ve been trying to keep on the level, ‘cos I’m still sure they’ll connect me to Jason’s murder somehow, so I don’t wanna give them any reason to pick me up.”

“So you’re a law-abiding citizen now?” Kevin asks.

Joaquin gives him a quick salute, “On the straight and narrow, that’s me.” He takes another drag on his cigarette. “Nah, I guess I’ve done some shit the cops wouldn’t be happy about, but fucking nothing like that, never again. I’ve been here over a year now, got a pretty nice setup. I live upstairs,” he hooks a thumb over his shoulder, motioning to a door further down the alley, “It’s small and noisy but Phil lets me stay for practically nothing, and it’s close to work, so.”

Kevin soaks in every detail Joaquin gives him, trying to commit them to memory just as Joaquin has said them. For so long he’s wanted any kind of update on Joaquin’s life, anything to let him know the man was still alive, that every little tidbit is like manna from heaven and he wants to remember it all so that he can pour over it for the days, weeks, months to come. He wants to wonder about Boston, how he switched coasts, how he met Phil. 

He hardly notices Joaquin falling silent, looks up to see him puffing on his cigarette, calculating eyes focused on Kevin. 

“What do you want, Kevin?” His voice is tired.

“I don’t know.” Kevin admits. “This, you… It’s exhausting, I guess. Overwhelming. It’s like I’d given up hope, yet I still had some. I’ve wanted to see you again for so long, but knew I wouldn’t. I’ve built my life with this hole, this part that had no answers and would always weigh me down, but I couldn’t let it, because I’m supposed to be this perfect guy, the perfect son, perfect boyfriend.”

“No one’s perfect.” Joaquin throws the cigarette on the ground, grinds his heel on it. “Not even you. That’s what I liked about you. How you were so… good, but then you’d buck the rules by dating me, fuck, you’d let me do things to you that…”

Kevin feels heat creep up his cheeks, “Yes, well. I was a healthy teenage boy.”

“You weren’t a teenager last week.”

Kevin meets Joaquin’s gaze, tries to pull away, but can’t.

“Is that why you’re here? Want to fuck around again?”

“That’s not why I came here.” Kevin protests feebly.

Joaquin smiles, and it’s almost that sweet, genuine one. “Well, no reason to not take advantage of the fact that you’re here.”

Kevin stands frozen as Joaquin comes closer, as he reaches out and pulls on the stupid scarf that Kevin wears because Lawrence likes them. 

By the time Joaquin has him pressed up against the alley’s wall, Kevin is anything but frozen. His hands grab and squeeze at whatever part of Joaquin’s body they can reach, and he keeps changing the angle of his head to make the kiss deeper, dirtier. Joaquin’s hands are at Kevin’s waist, warm and powerful in their mere touch.

They make out like starved teens, pushing and shoving, licking and biting. Kevin gasps when Joaquin kisses right under his ear, tongue slick over the pebbled skin. His hands are underneath Joaquin’s dirty t-shirt, caressing the warm skin. A thrill of lust runs through him whenever his thumb rubs against the hair he knows leads down to Joaquin’s cock. Joaquin makes desperate little noises and pushes into the touch.

“You live upstairs?” Kevin finally manages to get out. What the hell are they thinking, it’s broad daylight and people are passing by every few minutes.

“Yeah.” Joaquin leans in for a long closemouthed kiss.

It’s not that romantic, the trek upstairs and into Joaquin’s bed. The door sticks because all doors do, the staircase is narrow and it’s just two rooms, both less messy than they could’ve been, but still enough to make Kevin’s hands itch. Joaquin takes him straight to the bedroom, the bed unmade with random pieces of clothing on it. It’s awkward as hell for a minute, but Joaquin moves things along by pulling off his shirt and undoing his fly. Kevin follows suit, but takes care to fold his clothes and find a space on the floor where they’ll be left untouched. Joaquin laughs at him, and it breaks the tension. Kevin rolls his eyes and goes willingly when Joaquin tugs on his hand. They start kissing again as they fall down onto the bed, noses bumping into each other from the tiny fumble. Joaquin’s laughter starts up once more, and it’s so amazing to hear him laugh again after all these years, after all Kevin’s thoughts of him have been dark and broody, full of fear, blood and death. 

Kevin laughs too, because he can’t help himself. They press into each other like that, crawling up the mattress into a position where they can both spread out, though they end up more or less touching from head to toe anyway. Kevin is underneath Joaquin and he’s almost blissful from feeling the other man on top of him again, his warm skin pressing down on him with hard edges and demanding touches. Joaquin always had a way of combining his toughness with gentleness, just like he could be a cold, calculating gang member, but also the sweetest, most blushing boyfriend Kevin could ever wish for. Kevin still isn’t sure what parts of it was an act, if anything was, and if it would have been better if none of it was real.

Joaquin rubbing their cocks together is real enough, and Kevin groans from the desire flowing through him. Joaquin makes tiny thrusting motions against Kevin’s hip and it makes him rock hard, remembering how this used to play out between them, and how much stronger Joaquin feels now.

“You’ve been working out.” Kevin says, nonsensically.

Joaquin raises his head from where he’s been lapping at Kevin’s collarbone, “What?”

“I mean, you just, you have muscles. Not that you didn’t before, but they’re different now.” 

Joaquin giggles a little, clearly lightheaded from the lazy rubbing they’re both engaged in lower down. “Had to do something. Had to be ready.”

Kevin chooses to ignore all the things Joaquin had to be ready for, and runs his hands over his shoulders again. “I like it. You look… hot. Big.”

Joaquin looks pleased, and proud. His smile is among the sweetest things Kevin has ever known. “Yeah?” Joaquin kisses him once, softly. “Don’t worry, baby, you’re still taller than me.”

It shouldn’t melt Kevin’s heart, it shouldn’t make him feel right, shouldn’t want to make him pull Joaquin closer, but it does. He kisses Joaquin this time, in that firm way they had to remind themselves of how they were there for each other when no one else could know about them. 

Joaquin’s the one to get the condoms and lube, which is unsurprising as it’s his place. He slicks up his fingers and presses into Kevin with a careful ease. His eyes keep flicking between Kevin’s ass and his face, and by the time he’s in to the first knuckle it seems like he’s made his decision because he leans down to kiss Kevin. It’s hot, yes, and wet, but it’s also gentle and loving. It makes Kevin shiver and moan. He tries to hide how much it affects him by tangling a hand in Joaquin’s hair, but his attempts to deepen the kiss fail as Joaquin keeps it shallow and soft. 

The second finger isn’t that difficult to accept into his body, and darts of pleasure start shooting up his spine. His grip tightens in Joaquin’s hair, and Joaquin pushes his body firmer against Kevin’s.

“Yeah, you want it. Always such a good boy for me.” Joaquin murmurs.

Kevin can’t possibly hide the shiver at the praise, nor the moan that rips out of him.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Joaquin kisses Kevin’s jaw, then pulls away. He takes Kevin’s hand when the younger man reaches out for him, but still shifts down the bed so he can get a better angle as he fingers Kevin open.

Spreading his legs, Kevin stops pretending like he hasn’t wanted this since Joaquin got down on his knees last week. He gives into his body’s wishes, closing his eyes to focus on the waves of pleasure taking over his senses. 

Fingering was never Joaquin’s best move, rimming was what he reduced Kevin to tears with, so it’s a wonderful surprise to learn that Joaquin has improved at it. It’s no longer only short stabs against Kevin’s walls, but now there’s a slow drag to it, firm rubbing that is oh-so-close to Kevin’s prostate and it makes Kevin writhe on the bed.

“Fuck, you do that well.” Kevin pants.

Joaquin laughs, but it’s almost breathless, “Not in a rush these days.”

“Mm, thank God.” Kevin sighs happily, gasping when Joaquin starts working on finger number three. “Yeah, fuck, give me more.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. Fuck you like you need to be fucked. You’re doing so good for me.”

Kevin keens at the compliments, finally reaching down to stroke his neglected dick.

Joaquin tuts at him, pauses the in-and-out pull of his fingers, “ _Cariño_ , come on. You know it’ll be better if you wait.”

“Oh God, the Spanish too?”

“Gotta make you remember me.” Joaquin kisses Kevin’s knee, moving up his thigh as he murmurs in Spanish.

Kevin shoves his knee playfully into Joaquin’s cheek and they spend the rest of the prep time knocking into each other and laughing, unless Joaquin drives his fingers hard enough inside Kevin that it makes him groan and freeze up.

“Yeah, I think you’re done.” Joaquin says, when Kevin starts leaking precum. “Come on, baby, get ready for me.”

Kevin turns over, and waits for Joaquin to roll a condom on. But then Joaquin grabs him by the shoulder.

“No, come on baby, on your back.” 

Kevin rolls over, looks up. Joaquin’s eyes are blown wide and his lips are red. “Fuck me. I’ll be good.”

“Yeah, you will,” Joaquin lines himself up, “Does he know you want to be a good little boy? Does he know all the shit you’re into?”

Kevin freezes. “Don’t. Don’t bring him into this. You can say whatever you want about me, but don’t think for a second you get to mention him.”

Joaquin stills. Looks down at Kevin. Nods. “Yeah.”

Kevin doesn’t know how to go from here, how to handle being reminded you’re cheating when your dick has been hard for fifteen minutes and all you want is a dick up your ass.

Joaquin’s head is pushing against his entrance, and Kevin closes his eyes, tries to relax.

“Breathe, baby.” Joaquin kisses Kevin’s neck. “Yeah, you’re still so good to fuck.”

It’s slow going, probably because Joaquin is deliberately taking things slow, but it’s also so good, and the whispered praise make Kevin gasp in pleasure.

When he finally does start fucking him, Joaquin makes good on his word, and fucks him like there’s no tomorrow. He fucks him like they haven’t seen each other in years and all they’ve done is pined for the time they can be together again. His thrusts are long and hard, his cock buried deep inside Kevin. His hands are steady and sure on Kevin’s chest and shoulders, and his quiet string of compliments never lets up, tells Kevin that he’s worthy, and it makes Kevin’s head spin. No one’s ever been able to do that to him the way that Joaquin has.

Eventually the thrusts speed up, and Joaquin makes Kevin slide over on his stomach so he can drive even deeper inside him. Kevin jerks himself in time with Joaquin’s thrusts, feels the tips of Joaquin’s hair brush against his shoulder as the other man leans over him. 

“Please. Please.” Kevin stutters between panted breaths.

“Yeah, yeah, so good, _guapo_.” Joaquin says mindlessly, and then they forget everything as they shove at each other to reach their climaxes, sweaty skin sticking and unsticking as they kiss and touch.

Afterwards, Joaquin offers Kevin a blanket, and he takes it, pulling it over himself.

“You got some new moves.” Joaquin notes, lying on his side facing Kevin.

“You too.” Kevin half-smiles.

Kevin stays a lot longer than he should, and Joaquin must have taken a much longer break than he’s entitled too. It doesn’t look like he cares. They laugh and joke, and kiss, stray hands fondling each other but not taking it further. Kevin can’t believe he hasn’t thought about this Joaquin, the one with the open smiles and happy eyes, the one that seems surprised whenever Kevin says anything remotely dirty. He has been preoccupied for years with the Joaquin who was nervous and anxious, was convinced Joaquin had stayed in that terrified frame of mind. Kevin finds that he’s surprised Joaquin’s moved on enough to laugh so hard his belly hurts, but he’s happy too, happy Joaquin’s not hounded by his demons every minute of every day. This Joaquin, with the sweet smile and the adoring eyes, Kevin should’ve remembered him too. God, he was so in love with this Joaquin.

There is no shower curtain so Kevin tries to keep stray sprays of water to a minimum. He has to borrow Joaquin’s toothbrush, which reminds him of a _Seinfeld_ episode, but Joaquin doesn’t get the reference.

On his way home he buys a pre-paid cell phone and programs Joaquin’s number into it. He sends a text telling Joaquin to use the new number.

He has a date with Lawrence that night and he greets him with a kiss, sinking into it. When Lawrence preps him in bed later on and mentions that Kevin feels loose, Kevin makes a joke about being wet for his fiancé and it’s forgotten within moments.

He lies awake for hours, curled up against Lawrence, and hates himself.

**

Meeting Joaquin becomes an addiction. He learns Joaquin’s schedule, which isn’t hard at all since Joaquin works ten hours a day Monday through Friday, and five hours on Saturdays. He also learns that Joaquin has next to no social life, mostly hangs out with Phil and the other two employees at the shop, Sara and Zeke. They shoot pool at a bar down the street, chats a little with the people that work in the stores and offices around them. Joaquin admits he’s bored a lot of the time, but that he’s accepted his life without a gang to make it exciting, and that he’s just happy to have a life. 

Kevin’s presence changes things for Joaquin, Kevin knows that. Knows that he’ll bow out of after work drinks, so that he can let Kevin into his apartment and fuck him stupid. Kevin hates that Joaquin is so much better than Lawrence in bed. It’s not even the moves or the way he uses his dick, it’s every touch, every look, a chemistry that crackles and burns. In their teens, the sex had been good too, but it hadn’t been this. They’d clicked instantly back then, but this is another level completely, and Kevin wonders if it’s the only reason he keeps coming back.

He loves Lawrence, wants to marry him, maybe start a family eventually. But even though he’s hinted at his preferences in bed, things he’d liked to happen sometimes if not always, Lawrence has barely picked up on it. It’s disappointing, since he’s so attentive in other ways, always listening to Kevin bitch and moan, makes food he knows Kevin appreciates and sends thoughtful texts every few days. It wasn’t until Joaquin was back in his life, willing to rim him at a mere pleading look from Kevin, that Kevin realized how much it bothered him that Lawrence wouldn’t.

Joaquin tells him more about the years he’s spent away from Riverdale, tells him about the tattoos and the scars. He has some Mayan symbols inked on his calf, and explains them to Kevin. Kevin can’t ever imagine getting a tattoo, but they spend an hour arguing over what motif he’d hypothetically adorn his body with. Kevin thinks maybe an oak tree, Joaquin says a magnifying glass would make more sense. Kevin can’t even take that seriously, and says as much.

He doesn’t tell anyone he’s met Joaquin again, not his dad, not Betty, not Veronica. Besides the fact that he thinks they’d all spontaneously self-combust at hearing he’s sleeping with his old boyfriend, he’s nowhere near ready dragging all that shit up again with them all, not ready to tackle all those emotions again. He can barely understand the emotions swirling inside him when he talks to Joaquin about the months that had changed their lives forever, and he needs to process that before he can even attempt at bringing them up with someone else. 

They do talk about it though, him and Joaquin. Again and again, around and around. They’ll yell at each other, accuse each other one being selfish, of being unfair, and Kevin will run out sometimes, swearing up and down that he’ll never return, that Joaquin is an ugly person with an ugly soul. The longest he can stay away is a week, then he crumbles and calls Joaquin and they have a spectacular round of FaceTime sex. 

Sometimes it’s Joaquin that pulls away, that throws Kevin out. He never mentions Lawrence. There are times when Kevin can tell Joaquin wants to, when there’s Spanish muttered under his breath that he knows is about how Kevin can go to his fiancé but Joaquin only has his shitty job and apartment. Kevin and Lawrence don’t live together yet, for reasons Kevin isn’t actually clear on, but he still refuses to take Joaquin to his place. He doesn’t want to risk a nosy neighbor seeing them together, or strands of Joaquin’s hair lying in Kevin’s bed for Lawrence to find. He used to mention to Lawrence how they didn’t have to wait until they were married to move in together, but now he’s glad that he has no one at home to wonder where he is all night, and he’s glad Lawrence is as dedicated to his studies as Kevin is, meaning they’ve always spent some time apart just to get reading and coursework down.

**

“I can’t come over tonight, I’ve got a study group thing.” Kevin says on a Wednesday in December. He’s heading towards the library because they were given yet another optional assignment in his Creative Writing class with potential bonus points that will count towards the final grade. Kevin has yet to meet an assignment he hasn’t wanted to complete, and this is no different. The fact that he’s almost behind on his reading for Political Science and has an article due tomorrow for the college paper will not stop him from composing a new lyric to a The Beatles song of his choosing. He’s actually looking forward to it, and knows he’ll gush about the assignment to Lawrence later. 

“Oh,” Joaquin says after a moment’s silence, “that’s fine. Gotta stay on track to graduate top of your class, right?”

Kevin’s about to mention that Joaquin sounds a little clogged up when he spots Lawrence coming towards him. He starts to panic, not since that day in the diner has Joaquin and Lawrence been this close to a meeting, and just hearing Joaquin breathing on the other end of the line is too much. “Fuck, Quino, I gotta go, but I’ll be in touch, yeah? Weekend might be swamped, but I’ll try to get some time on Sunday.”

“You can always study here.” Joaquin offers. He’s said the same before, but the few times Kevin’s brought his books with him, they’ve stayed in his bag while he’s spread his legs for Joaquin.

“Yeah, I’ll call.” Kevin says, distracted and attempting a smile at Lawrence. “Bye.”

Lawrence is almost within touching distance. “Hey, babe, are you stalking me again?”

“I never stalked you, God.” Kevin complains, because it was cute when they started dating how Lawrence would point out that Kevin spent a lot of time in the library where Lawrence works, but it’s not cute now. 

“Did you get a new phone?” Lawrence asks.

Fuck. Kevin’s usual phone is black, the one he uses for the sole purpose of contacting Joaquin is white. “Uh, just got a new case, the other one got a dent in it.”

Lawrence buys the excuse, offers to come over with food once Kevin’s study group is over and kisses Kevin’s cheek goodbye. Kevin is hit with the realization that he’s cheating on a really great guy that he loves, and that he’s the worst kind of person in the world.

**

It’s not until Tuesday that Kevin’s able to find time to swing by Joaquin’s, and then only for a quick visit. The cynical part of him wonders how people ever manage cheating for long, seeing as it takes up so much time.

Joaquin takes the bag Kevin brought from the burrito place two shops down the street, and heads to the small kitchenette. Kevin frowns as he takes off his coat, getting ready for some quality time on Joaquin’s terrible sofa. It’s big enough that Kevin wonders how it ever got inside the apartment, and the middle of it is so sunken down it feels like you’re sitting on the wooden slats keeping it together. 

It’s when they’re halfway through their meal that Kevin realizes why he feels so uneasy. Joaquin has hardly said anything since he showed up, not even tried to get a kiss. 

“Is everything okay?” Kevin asks.

Joaquin shrugs. 

There’s something about Joaquin, especially when he chooses to be shit at communication, which makes Kevin quick to resort to anger. “Jesus, don’t fucking tell me then.”

Joaquin just chews faster.

Kevin’s about to throw the last of his burrito in his mouth and get the hell out of there, when he spots a bouquet of flowers on the wonky table. “Oh my God, what did those lilies ever do to deserve being tortured by Mr. Blonde?”

Joaquin crosses his arms and stares at the TV.

“ _Reservoir Dogs_.” Kevin explains because Joaquin only gets about a third of all his references, which is a little more annoying than Kevin likes to admit. Lawrence gets them all. 

“I know the fucking movie.” Joaquin grits out.

“So where are the flowers from? I know you didn’t go out to get them.”

“You’re like a dog with a fucking bone.”

“Come on, this is the first time I’ve seen living plants in your apartment that aren’t some science experiment from the take out containers in your fridge.” Kevin knows he isn’t coming across as funny, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“They’re from Sara, alright?” Joaquin finally snaps.

There’s a flash of jealousy rolling through him, hitting Kevin completely unaware. “Why?”

“Just drop it, alright.” Joaquin warns.

“No, I wanna know why she’s giving you flowers.”

Joaquin gets up, but he has back turned towards Kevin. “Jealous? Scared you have to share me?” 

“I…” Kevin falters. He has absolutely no right to demand answers from Joaquin, about anything. No right to wonder if he was working late, if he got too drunk with his friends, if he could please start wearing a helmet when he’s riding his motorcycle.

Joaquin uses Kevin’s pause to head for the toilet. With his stomach clenched uncomfortably, Kevin heads to the cluttered table, for some stupid reason wanting a better look at the bouquet. There’s a tiny card attached, and when he opens it, his stomach officially drops out. He hears Joaquin come back, and swivels around. 

“It was your birthday? When?” Kevin practically shoots the questions at his lover.

“Wednesday.” Joaquin mumbles, looking uncomfortable.

Wednesday. The day Kevin cancelled on him, the day Kevin decided he should spend some more time with Lawrence.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Kevin takes a step in Joaquin’s direction, falters when Joaquin flinches back.

“Wasn’t like you knew anyway. Not like we were gonna do something special. Not like I’m your fiancé.”

Kevin bites back the reflex to admonish Joaquin for bringing up Lawrence. “I still would’ve liked to known. I would’ve liked to have been there with you.”

“Fuck you, Kevin.” Joaquin says it so softly that it’s difficult to connect the words with their meaning. “You think I’m sitting here, locked up in my tower thinking of you coming to save me, that I don’t have a life outside of spicing up your sex life? Guess again, Preppy. You’re the one that’s messed up about this. You’re the one cheating. I’m the one ready to take this outside, to do more than just fuck you and tell you you’re a good boy. It freaks you out, doesn’t it, that I love you enough to take whatever you wanna give me, even when that’s just fucking and you denying your feelings for me, as long as you get to hate me for something I did when I was a terrified teenager.”

Kevin can’t tear his eyes away from Joaquin’s angry face, the words spilling out of him as if he’s been wanting to yell at him all night.

“That’s what this is all about, Kev. You keep clinging on to that anger and hate from six years ago, because you are terrified to admit you want to be with me now.”

Kevin worries his lip for a full ten seconds before he storms out, barely remembering to grab his coat on his way out.

**

Lawrence comes with Kevin to Riverdale for Christmas because Kevin will never let his dad be alone at the holidays, and as sheriff he has to be around town for a number of festivities. It’s not Riverdale if there isn’t a pageant, cookie drive, bonfire or formal dance to celebrate even the smallest moment in Riverdale history.

He’s been with Lawrence a lot in the recent weeks. He knows he’s overcompensating, but he doesn’t care. He needs to remember why he loves Lawrence, why he said ‘yes’ when the blonde proposed. It was the happiest day of his life, and now he has trouble envisioning their wedding day. Of course Joaquin is a huge part of it, but he wonders if he’d start questioning his relationship even if he hadn’t met the ex-gang member again. Every relationship has it’s up and down, it’s normal to consider the future they have together.

Melvin, Kevin’s dad, approves of Lawrence, more so than of any previous boyfriends. Kevin’s only brought two with him home, and Lawrence is the only one to appear more than once. They talk easily, if not warmly. Lawrence’s dad was in the army, like Melvin, and many conversations revolve around that. 

“So you’re like a referee?” Lawrence asks, as the sheriff is explaining the town winter pageant, this time hailing the efforts of the pet rescue center, meaning there’ll be a ton of animals running around in nowhere near an organized fashion. Kevin can’t wait. 

“Together with the mayor and whichever Blossom can’t reject the idea without the others threatening bodily harm.” Melvin says.

“Dad.” Kevin only half admonishes, focusing on how soft Lawrence’s hand feels in his.

They’re still at the dining room table, though they’ve all finished their meal, a great tomato sauce and pasta that Lawrence put together.

Lawrence laughs lightly, “Your son keeps telling me Riverdale is a whirlpool of secrets and tragedy, but you all seem so nice.” He squeezes Kevin’s hand, sends him a fond smile. “It’s like you do everything you can to keep me away from here and make me not want to know where you grew up. Even that old friend of yours we met, Joaquin? You scared him away as soon as he spoke to me. I don’t think I really know a single one of your Riverdale friends, only your college ones.”

Kevin tunes out the rambling and very carefully watches his father. His father, who slowly puts down his fork and is breathing very steadily. When Lawrence finally stops talking, Melvin’s eyes land on Kevin. Kevin shrinks, takes his hand away from Lawrence and knows he is fidgeting like crazy.

“I’m gonna get another beer, anyone else want any?” Lawrence asks.

“Sure.” Melvin says, eyes tracking Lawrence’s back as he heads for the kitchen. When he turns past the doorway, he focuses back on Kevin. “Joaquin?” 

“Yeah.” Kevin says quietly, looking at his plate. “He lives out there.”

“Hmm.” 

Kevin tries to anticipate what his dad will ask next, what angle he’ll be interested in. Probably all of them. He tries to head them off, “I didn’t know. Not until September, I didn’t know he was there.”

Melvin puts his elbows on the table, leans forward. But then he sighs, slumps down. “Kid, you’re not seeing him are you?”

“Seeing him, what, no, that’s crazy.” Kevin babbles, and he’s petrified Lawrence will come back too soon.

Melvin looks at him. “Because you know what he did. His part in everything. What he did to you specifically.”

Kevin’s voice is quiet, and he doesn’t know if the pain he feels is old or new. “I know that, dad, I know it all. I’m engaged to Lawrence.” He doesn’t know why he adds the last part, but he does. 

Melvin gives him a calculating look, then calls out to Lawrence, “That beer coming any time soon?”

**

The next day or two is weird between his dad and him. Lawrence notices but Kevin tries to dismiss it and fails. At least Betty and Archie are at the pageant to distract Lawrence. Thankfully he doesn’t mention Joaquin to either of them. Betty would just about kill him if she knew. 

His dad tricks Lawrence into taking Fonzie, his German Shepherd, for a walk and forces a few more answers out of Kevin about Joaquin. He’s livid to hear they’re still in contact, but Kevin vehemently denies there is anything more than friendship and mental healing going on. Melvin probably doesn’t believe him. At least they can agree that Joaquin won’t have any legal repercussions as long as he stays far away from Riverdale, and that it probably has been good for Kevin to finally get some real closure on that horrible chapter of his life. 

Two weeks later, when Lawrence finally confronts him about his affair, Kevin knows it’s not because his dad ratted him out. Melvin Keller would never intentionally hurt his only son in any way, and he’s far too imbued with the Riverdale spirit to mention potential betrayal to the person it would actually matter to. 

He’s not entirely sure how it happens, one minute he’s texting Joaquin a, for once, random question about a Spanish translation, the next Lawrence is pulling his skinny frame into a mass hulk above him, voice cold and hard. 

“It’s that Joaquin guy, right? The one you didn’t want me to meet, not really. I wasn’t blind, I just refused to see it. I thought you were one of the good guys, raised in the heartland, would never hurt a fly.”

“What are you talking about?” Kevin tries to stall. 

“The phones!” Lawrence yells, “The phones! I deluded myself into thinking you switched cases back and forth for some reason. But I’ve seen them both, people only have two phones for a reason.”

“Honey, that’s not–”

“We were so good together, why did you have to ruin it? What did I do?” Lawrence’s voice breaks, “We used to have so much fun together, but lately, sometimes when we talk it’s like you’re barely there. It’s like you’re not even in the room. You used to tell me everything, now it’s like you’re telling someone else all those things.”

Kevin can still save them. He can lie, he can tell that Lawrence is desperate to hear that it isn’t true, that he’d believe Kevin if he seems confused and upset enough. Kevin loves Lawrence, wants to stay with him. Riverdale has taught him how to manipulate his way into getting what he wants. All he’s ever wanted is to keep Lawrence safe from the sickly sweet maple poison of his hometown.

“It’s complicated.” Kevin says, disconnected.

A broken laugh breaks out of Lawrence’s chest, “It’s complicated? That’s what you’re giving me?”

“I’m sorry.” Kevin says next, because he is.

“It’s not complicated. Either you’re cheating on me, or you’re not. I thought it was weird, how I’d try to bring him up, bring Riverdale up, and you’d just shut me down. I thought it was the same as always whenever we talk of home, but it wasn’t. It was you trying to make me forget about him.” 

Kevin is quietly impressed that Lawrence has worked all that out, no wonder he’s at the top of his class. He’s gonna make one hell of a prosecutor one day. It’s not the time for compliments though, so what he says is, “J.B. Fletcher would be so proud of your deduction skills.” He cringes at himself.

“Really, Kevin? Really?” Lawrence looks less than impressed. Actually, he looks both furious and sad. 

“Sorry.” Kevin says quietly. 

Lawrence closes his eyes, dries away a tear that threatens to fall. “If you promise me you’ll never see him again, I can think about forgiving you. But can you promise me that?”

Kevin stands frozen for moment. He loves Lawrence, has up until now had an amazing, drama-free relationship with him, and has his mom on Facebook. But the mere thought of never seeing Joaquin again, of not having that connection to the gruesome actions that forever ties them together…

“Something happened when we were younger,” Kevin starts, “Something bad. I can talk to him about it.”

“You can talk to me.” Lawrence stresses.

“No,” Kevin shakes his head, “Not this. We don’t… The people that were there… We don’t talk about it at all. Not even with each other. We pretend it’s not there. With him, he was in the middle of it. There’s no pretending it didn’t happen. And I… I need that. I guess I didn’t know that until I met him again, but I need someone who won’t clam up on me, who won’t get mad, who doesn’t act like what happened can all be explained and rationalized.”

“Can you promise you won’t sleep with him?” Lawrence asks, barely above a whisper.

Kevin looks down at the floor, stays silent.

“I guess not.” Lawrence says. “I’ll come for my stuff some other day.”

Kevin doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t try to change his mind and he doesn’t try to win him back. He loved Lawrence more than he ever loved Joaquin back then, because he didn’t know what love even was when he was sixteen, but he doesn’t even make a half-hearted attempt at making Lawrence stay with him.

When he tells his dad the engagement is off, Melvin just sighs and says he was afraid that would happen.

**

A year later Melvin comes to Berkeley for Christmas because they all agree Joaquin should never return to Riverdale. Maybe all this time Kevin’s been looking for an excuse to not go back either. It’s no surprise that Melvin is frosty against the former Serpent, and Joaquin stays at his apartment, even though he has more or less moved in with Kevin. 

Kevin’s bought a gift for his dad and put Joaquin’s name on the tag, but Melvin doesn’t have anything for Joaquin, and the gift doesn’t fool anyone. Because they both know how important it is to Kevin, the others remain cordial and never openly criticize each other, but it’s a good thing it’s socially accepted to spend Christmas staring at movies so they don’t have to talk. 

“Thank you.” Kevin says against Joaquin’s lips after they’ve seen the sheriff off on the 27th. “For not punching him or something equally stupid.”

“I think you’ll find he’s the one that wanted to punch me.” Joaquin says, accepting the kiss.

“Yeah.” Kevin agrees. “But thank you anyway. That was the best Christmas gift by far, you and him both here, and not one fight.”

Joaquin puts his arms around Kevin’s neck, “Can’t wait to do it all over again next year.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Self-centred A/N: Whohohohho, well well! I haven't written fic in over a year and this, THIS, is what I come back with! Riverdale, ladies and gentlemen, Riverdale. Wow. But like, I got inspired and I went with it, and it was so much fun! Hopefully this means more writing in general, because it really is just so much fun to play with characters and stories and make awful things happen. It's not completely unlikely there will be hockey fic within the foreseeable future (I found a practically finished fic!), but no promises! If there's anyone out there still reading my fic, I hope I can get you new stories soon! You mean the world to me <3


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